


Christmas Cookies

by Babs (King_Dollophead)



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Brotzly if you squint - Freeform, Drabble, Exactly What It Says on the Tin, Fluff, Gen, One-Shot, but not enough to make it t rated, i dont usually write in present tense, only one instance of language, sorry about that
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-16
Updated: 2019-02-16
Packaged: 2019-10-29 18:52:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17813549
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/King_Dollophead/pseuds/Babs
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin-Dirk and Todd, baking Christmas cookies. Aimless fluff, plain and simple. Can be Brotzly if you squint.





	Christmas Cookies

**Author's Note:**

> Written during the Christmas of 2017, and only recently rediscovered and polished. Cross-posted to Fanfiction.net. Happy belated/early Christmas?

"Dirk,  _what_  is  _that_? Blue isn't even a festive color!"

Dirk scowls, and tightly squeezes the tube of light blue icing close, holding it in a defensive embrace. A tiny bit of icing shoots out, and lands with a thunderous  _plop_ on Todd's freshly cleaned carpet.

Todd glares at his lanky companion, who merely shrugs with the sheepish grin of a dog who has been caught chewing up its owner's missing pair of expensive slippers.

"Blue  _is_  a festive colour, I'll have you know!" Dirk cries indignantly, quickly forgetting his earlier mishap, which Todd had lazily dismissed with a sigh. "What, have you never heard that song about a Christmas that's blue, sung by that Ernest Parsley fellow?"

Todd looks affronted for a moment, ever the music enthusiast. His eyelids are soon weighed down by severe annoyance and light apathy. "I think you mean Elvis Presley," Todd corrects flatly.

Dirk's face grows contemplative. He then smirks in that know-it-all manner that Todd is all too accustomed with. "No, I'm quite sure that his surname is Parsley. The Elvis part seems a bit more fitting than Ernest, though." Dirk hums a few off-key bars of the song gleefully to emphasize his earlier point, swiping a few more strokes of blue frosting onto his messy confectionary canvas.

"Dirk, would you mind telling me what it is that you're drawing? ...Or whatever it's called when done with icing," Todd queries, noting that Dirk has long since forgotten his initial question.

A spark of recognition sets the tall man's denim blue eyes ablaze. "Ah, yes, certainly! I'd have to say it's quite obvious, though, I understand that you  _are_ among the more aurally inclined when it comes to artistry, so this may be somewhat of a challenge for you. Well, it is, and, rather conspicuously, might I add, a cat shark, lurking about in the depths of—well, rather, just below the surface of—the ocean. I know, I know; the shark is  _technically_ inside the cat, so it's strange that the face of a cat is hovering in front of the shark fin, but, you know, stylistic choices and all that. Ties in rather nicely with the name of this particular piece, too;  _A Shark in Cat's Clothing_. What's on your biscuit?"

Todd blinks, taken aback by Dirk's detailed, thought-out, and excessively confident explanation. He could never quite tell what was just Dirk bullshitting his way to some semblance of rationality from what the man's actual train of thought was. Clearing his throat and stuttering awkwardly, he replies, "U-uh, it's a...It's a..."—Todd peers closely at his latest creation, having forgotten precisely what it is that he has made. He flushes uncomfortably. "It's a mess," the man announces finally.

Dirk leans over the shorter man's shoulder, closely observing the intricate swirls of sugar by tracing them with his calculating blue eyes. "Well, I think it rather closely resembles the cyclone of calamity that follows a holistic detective such as myself wherever I go," Dirk offers with a smile.

Todd blinks, large, icy eyes blown eerily wide with surprise. "Really?"

"Yes! Just...in a physical, abstract, confectionery form," Dirk adds on matter-of-factly.

"Huh." Todd examines his cookie once more. After a moment of further scrutiny, the man speaks. "I think it looks a lot like my life."

Dirk laughs awkwardly. "Erm, sorry about that?"

Todd suddenly cracks a smile-a real, genuine one, untainted by his general quavering nervousness. "My life  _before_ , idiot.  _Kinda_ like now, but...now, my life follows a sort of pattern. A crazy one, yes, but still, a pattern. I guess you could call it...organized chaos?"

Dirk grins. "Definitely. Good thing I've got you to help me sort out what exactly the pattern is. Otherwise, I'd probably be in the same boat as that lady in  _The Yellow Wallpaper_."

Todd's brow furrows. "The what now?"

Dirk sighs. "It's just some story about a woman who's locked in an attic and driven mad by a bit of yellow wallpaper with an incomprehensible pattern."

"Ah," Todd replies. "That sounds...depressing."

"It isn't, really," Dirk responds with a shrug. He then perks up, overactive mind already bouncing to the next subject. "Anyway, time to get these in the oven!"

Todd quickly snatches the tray of cookies from Dirk, brows quirking into a firm stare. "Oh, no you don't. I've seen the aftermath of your baking. I'm  _not_ letting you burn down another building, especially not one with me still in it."

Dirk pouts petulantly, but ultimately, relents.

"A-and...there we go!" Todd murmurs to himself, closing the oven door with a satisfying  _click_. He turns to face Dirk, a faint smile on his face. "They'll be done in an hour," he announces.

"Want to play  _Clue_ in the meantime?" Dirk suggests, eyes shining with hope.

Todd smirks. "You're on."

**Author's Note:**

> I don't usually write in the present tense, so I apologize for any errors there.


End file.
